


Bandaging Wounds

by God0fRa



Series: Septic Shenanigans [1]
Category: jacksepticeye, youtuber
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Trauma, eye gore, hero x villain, marvelsepticeye - Freeform, some good ol' villain and hero fluff, with a glitch bitch being nosey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:41:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27087268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/God0fRa/pseuds/God0fRa
Relationships: Jackieboy man x Marvin the Magnificent
Series: Septic Shenanigans [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1977022
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Bandaging Wounds

Lips curl into a sneer, exposing his teeth at the one who dared approach. Blood trickles down the side of his face like crimson red tears; streaking against the skin and gently plopping down upon the vibrant blue shirt.

His body shudders, a silent cry of fatigue as the blood continues to seep from every wound. It hurts to keep himself awake, yet he pushes forward knowing that to close his eyes would be the end. Every second becomes more difficult to control his mind, to stop it from slipping away into the bliss of eternal sleep.

“What. . . do you want?” He tries his best to hiss out the words, to have some bite behind them—it fails quite dramatically. It comes out as a gravelly mewl, the single eye narrowing at the one approaching.

Seconds later his eye widens, a flicker of fear upon seeing the shape. Feet scrape across the dirt, kicking up bits of the wet ground in a fruitless attempt to move back, “Get away from me!” One hand raises to cover as much of his face as it can, coating it further in blood.

“Hey. . . hey, it’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you.” The approaching hero holds up his hands to show he is unarmed. Both recognize each other, so many times confronting the other that even without their getups they can be recognized.

Marvin the Magnificent, broken with his mask laying on the ground at his side—the once pristine masquerade mask cracked with pieces chipped off. Without the shielding of the mask upon his face strands of brown hair tipped a vibrant teal cling to his face, growing sticky from the blood. Bright markings are revealed as well, a wing like pattern beneath both eyes and the suite symbols embedded in his forehead.

And then there is Jackieboy-Man, hero of the town and loved by the people. Unlike his usual attire, the hero wears a black shirt beneath the blue and red hoodie, a glowing green crystal resting against his chest. Blue eyes reflect the concern he holds for the other—even if Marvin is a villain he has fought so many times, he cannot stand the sight of the other in such a condition.

“You need medical attention; your eye is going to get infected without help.” Jackie states, hands brought back into their nesting spot within the jacket pockets. There is a lot of blood, enough that without treatment Marvin would die. How could he sit by and watch an old friend bleed to death. . . even if that old friend turned into an enemy?

“I’m fine,” Marvin huffs, coughing moments later as drips of blood rise from his throat, “I don’t need some person who thinks their precious science is better than my magic on healing my wounds. . .”

“Then why haven’t you healed them yet?” It is crude, something that he regrets saying seconds after the words spill from his mouth. Jackie quickly frowns as the glare deepens from the other, “Sorry, that wasn’t appropriate. Still, at least let me get you out of these woods and somewhere safer. You’re a sitting duck if you stay out here for any creature looking for easy prey.”

“Fuck off,” the words are harsher this time, a bite behind them, “You mock me with your words! Fuck off and leave me to my devices.” He tries to stand, legs wobbling before he plummets back to the ground—or would so if not for the quick reflexes of the hero.

A hand presses firmly against the magician’s chest, holding him up as the other arm wraps around the back of his waist, “I’m not leaving you and I’m not going to change my mind!” Jackie snaps back, his own eyes narrowing. He meets the single gaze of the other, hardening his own to reflect the seriousness of the situation. No will not be taken as an answer, even if that means he waits until the magician passes out before dragging his sorry arse to his nearby safehouse.

Which, this becomes reality sooner than he thought when the single eye droops before closing completely, the body growing to be dead weight. At least he can get Marvin to a safer spot without arguments or even getting damage from the magician’s magic. Even if he is rather skilled in the arcane arts, there are still times the spells could misfire and cause cataclysmic damage.

Is this what happened here, or is it something else? Did Marvin have a backfire of a spell while training or did he get into a fight with something or somebody?

Jackie shakes his head, lifting the unconscious magician to ensure he does not drag on the ground. Deep blue eyes glance around the area, the sensation of being watched tingling in the back of his mind. Maybe it was not a spell backfiring.

“Show yourself!” The hero calls out, only watching as the trees shudder from the gust of wind. As the world settles again and droplets of water fall from the sky like tears of the hidden stars, so too does the feeling. Whatever it was is gone.

Not important, he needs to focus on getting Marvin to safety. Just a small walk to his safehouse. Turning, he takes the path carved out by the lines of trees, avoiding roots poking from the ground and a few small critters that scutter across the ground. The later hours of the night would be the worst, when the more deadly and larger creatures would come out to hunt.

He exhales a breath in the form of a sigh, pulling out his keys carefully to not lose hold on the other. The small safehouse comes into view quickly, the trees swaying in the increasing winds. Struggling, the key fits into the lock, swinging open the door as he pushes inside.

The safehouse is not the cleanest one, still needing a lot of work since it has been unused for a few years now. However, it will work well enough especially with his guest. Even if he does not have the heart to let the other bleed to death, he does not want his house, or his base known by the other—Marvin is a villain, after all.

Once inside he gently sets Marvin down on the couch, rummaging around before finding the nearby lamp to illuminate the empty space. The bulb gives off a warm glow, radiating through the cloth shade tented over it—enough light to dimly fill the expanse of the room.

The room is not very impressive, a couch, chair and ottoman along with the end table that supports the lamp towards the center of the room, a long, glass coffee table and an old fireplace with a mantel untouched for decades. This place holds memories, some painful while others are warm and fondly remembered. Echoes of the past are plastered on the walls, though many frames remain empty of the pictures they once protected. Dust settles on every surface it can, the couch and pillows mostly saved from the cover protecting the material beneath it.

Ah, how memories can be so comforting yet drag him down into the abyss of despair for dwelling on them too long.

“I’ll be right back,” Jackie whispers despite knowing Marvin could not hear him, “I got some new medical supplies in the bathroom.” It was lucky that he had stopped here the other day, realizing he needed to set up a safehouse farther away from his base of operations with the increase activity of villainous deeds.

Much like the other room the hallway is empty, even the lightbulbs missing from the sockets to leave the pathway in looming darkness. Doorways span on each side, leading to rooms left long abandoned and finally, at the end, the bathroom he is looking for.

He is greeted by his own face in the mirror, looking tired as a few strands of dark brown hair has fallen from the ponytail holding it back. Soon he can at least let his guard down a bit, once the other is patched up. The medical supplies rest atop the counter, every item needed waiting to be taken: gauze, medical tape, bandages, and antiseptic wash to ensure the wounds will not get infected.

Jackie glances up to the mirror, frowning a moment. Did he see something? No, it must be his fatigue getting to him; just his fatigue changing the way he looks in the mirror.

Ignoring the thoughts, he leaves with the supplies, heading back into the living room.

Much to his surprise, he is met with the magician sitting up, confusion clear on his expression and the single eye left in his skull scanning the room around him.

“I didn’t expect you to wake up so quickly.” Jackie holds back a frown, approaching as he places the supplies down upon the single coffee table, “Are you feeling okay?”

“I feel like I have gone through a blender,” Marvin groans out his reply, a momentary loss of the aggression from before. His throbbing head is only comforted slightly by the dimmed lights. He focuses in on the hero, eyeing the items in his hands, “You’re gonna patch me up?” There is a small snide snort from him, “I expected you to get that quack out here to help.”

“No, I don’t think you’d have time to wait for him to get here,” that and he knows the feelings of the doctor towards the magician—hell, he knows how both feel about the others profession and what could happen if the two ended up in the same room. No, he would not bother Schneeplestein with this. It should not be too hard to clean up the wounds and wrap them up, right?

“So. . . you know what you are doing, right?” The single eye narrows in skepticism.

“Hey! I’ve patched up my own wounds many times before I got help from Henrik!” Jackie snaps back, hands placed on his hips as he gives a stern look down to the sitting magician, “Are you going to let me stop you from bleeding to death or would you rather I walk away and let you die?”

Marvin snickers at this, “You’re too much of a hero to do that.” Is that a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his lips? No, not possible.

A pause of silence.

“Fuck you.” Jackie counters before sitting down, scooting the ottoman closer to the couch so he is a comfortable distance away to work, “Just don’t blast me with magic while I’m trying to fix things, alright?” He picks up the antiseptic wash first and a cotton ball, dabbing it into the liquid before holding it out.

“I make no promises. . .” is the mumbled words, holding out his right arm first.

“Don’t you want your eye fixed fir—” the hero starts before he is cut off by the magician baring his teeth, “Alright, arms first.” Gently he dabs the cotton ball against the first cut, flinching as Marvin curses under his breath and jerks slightly against the touch. Even if he expects the pain, it still does not make it hurt any less.

A few more strokes and all the cuts were cleaned, shifting to placing a few pieces of gauze over the wounds before wrapping it up. The other arm goes by quicker, Marvin remaining still and unflinching for that one—adjusted to the pain already, or more accurately mumbling a spell to reduce the signals sent from his nerves to signify the pain.

“Hey. . .” Jackie hesitates, hands hovering over the growing red spot on the magician’s chest, “Uhh. . .” He needs to take off the vest and shirt.

Marvin grunts, “What?”

“I. . . I need to. . .” the hero swallows down his feelings before speaking in a smoother tone, “I need to take off your shirt and vest; your chest needs to be cleaned and dressed.”

Arms move slightly, wincing as a shot of pain streams up from both limbs—yet he keeps moving, undoing each button before pulling both pieces of garments down below his elbows, “Good enough?”

Silence rises, blue eyes widening at the sight of the other’s chest. It is not just the large gash that rests over the left side of his chest that brings a horrified awe, but the intricate markings that span across his whole chest and down to his mid bicep on his right arm. It is a beautiful design, like a bird or phoenix spread across his pectorals and the tail coiling around his arm—all in that vibrant teal that glows in the dim light. The mark of a magician? No matter the reasoning, it is beautiful.

Marvin clears his throat, getting Jackie to snap out of his trance, “Huh? Oh. . . sorry. . .” His face burns nearly the same bright red as his hoodie, quickly pulling out a clean cotton ball and soaking it in the antiseptic, “I just. . . never noticed that marking.”

Another snort, “That’s because it is more recent and I don’t run shirtless around heroes.”

“By that you suggest you run shirtless around villains,” Jackie retorts, only to frown at the small smirk the other gives, “Seriously?”

Marvin shrugs, “Sometimes I get my way with just my charm rather than my tricks. You would not believe how gullible some are with a nice body, a show, and a smile to charm them off their feet.” That information is both helpful and something he never wanted to know.

“Okay. . . tmi.” Jackie grimaces before dabbing around the wound, “But still.”

For minutes the silence lingers, even as Jackie moves to clean out the empty eye socket and wrap the bandages around the magician’s head—making sure not to cover the other eye as well as he can, not being a medical professional makes such a thing challenging.

Finally, it is Marvin who breaks the silence, his voice serious, “What makes you so willing to patch up my wounds after all these years of trying to kill you?” He remains still save for his eye glancing up at Jackie, “Do you think I’ll have a change of heart, that I’ll forget everything?”

It is hard to forget everything, even for the hero. Forgive and forget is easier said than done with the escapades of the magician often foiled by the hero. The frustration is clear every time they meet for so the failed robberies—and for the successful ones, especially when it was a highly dangerous item to be in the hands of an arrogant, villainous, diva of a magician.

Jackie simply shakes his head, “I’m fixing you up because you’ve been dealt a shite hand by the world, kinda like me, but you took it a different way.” Both had such traumatic pasts, their histories wrought with despair and destruction. Jackie took his trauma and used it to better himself, to do right in the world to ensure others would not go through the same horrors he went through. Marvin, on the other hand, went on the side of making things worse—starting out harming those who would harm others and quickly falling into something darker. Jackie hates to think his old friend had gotten involved in the wrong crowd. . . that he got involved with _him_.

“But, that doesn’t mean I’m heartless, Marvin. You lost your eye for fuck’s sake.” Jackie takes on his own serious tone, pulling away as he finishes the last bit of dressing the magician’s wounds.

“Huh. . .” This seems to take him by surprise, a moment of thinking on Marvin’s part before he utters his response, “You are a strange hero, Jackieboy Man, bandaging up a man who could turn around and kill you.”

“I know you won’t.” The response gets a glower from the other, Jackie shrugging, “I’ve seen your eyes behind the mask—I’ve seen kindness in your eyes, a desire to be cared for. . .” He pauses to look down, “to be understood.”

That is the same feeling he had at the beginning, the feeling that drove him to do good. He wanted to be understood, not seen as a freak or a monster because of his different abilities. No human has super strength like him or could fly or could catch movements that some could so easily miss. Yet, that did not stop him from meeting people who did care for him, who took a chance to know the man behind the superhuman. He met Chase who found it so cool he had powers, Henrik who has kept his arse patched up after a long fight and Seán and his large group of friends. He had met people who are like a family to him, a family he never really had.

“We were friends so long ago,” he recalls the past, the times when they were younger and Marvin would show off his abilities to recall things nobody else could, how he could make shapes out of his magic. He could remember the day Marvin discovered he could do more, the day he ended up setting the school on fire because he cast the spell wrong in the boy’s bathroom.

He misses those days. . . the days of having his best friend.

“Do you miss those days?” The question falls from his lips before it can even be processed in his mind.

Silence.

Marvin frowns, letting the stillness linger for minutes. He could feel something, something odd that has not been felt for a while. Nostalgia, or perhaps a hint of dread?

“I do sometimes miss those days,” finally he admits to it, “How simple things were before it all went to shite. The days we would be out so late even the fireflies would go to sleep before us. . . before we lost everything.”

Gently his hand lifts, brushing against the wing-like markings beneath his left eye, “But we’ve grown up, Jackie; you’re a great hero to the world while I’m the one that comes to mess up that order you created.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way.” Another spilling of thoughts without processing them, a desire to have his friend back, to have his support and his strength lost so long ago, “We don’t have to be hero and villain pinned against each other. . . I miss you, a lot.” He leans in closer, voice lowering into a hushed whisper, “I miss the nights we would stargaze and joke about living on the moon or even the times we would run out of the abandoned city chased by horrific monsters because I was an idiot and punched a wall to show off or the time your spell backfired and you lit the school on fire so I had to make the excuse I was smoking in the bathroom and you tried to stop me.” Subconsciously his hand moves to the crystal resting against his sternum—a gift he has long kept.

“You can’t tell me you don’t feel the same. . .” It hurts to think it is one-sided, unreciprocated. How many years did it take for him to realize what he had felt for his friend was something deep? Too late to say anything when he did finally realize it, pinned against his old friend—literally pinned against a wall with the magician nearly burning him alive.

“Please. . . tell me you feel the same.” It feels pathetic to plead out his words, to show the fear and desperation for the answer, even if the answer is no, at least he could work to let go.

The absence of words from Marvin makes the pit of dread grow larger and larger in his gut, deep blue eyes never leaving the slightly angled head of the magician. Could he handle the answer being no? Could he work on letting go of feelings he could not even discard knowing he was often at wits with the very one these feelings were for? Or would the no utterly destroy him and leave him a broken shell, unable to recover?

His mind starts to spiral down into a cataclysm of anxious thoughts and doubts, clouding his mind of anything else—so deep lost in his thoughts that he does not hear the response out of the magician, nor the frustrated look that is given when there is no reaction.

He is, however, pulled out of his spiraling thoughts when a hand grabs hold of the collar of his shirt, snapping him immediately back to reality, “W-wha?” He stutters before no more words can be given, only the sensation of lips smashing into his own—the pressure as Marvin pushes his weight against Jackie’s.

Once the shock of the situation settles down, blue eyes gradually close. Leaning his own weight into the kiss, Jackie rests his arms lightly on Marvin’s shoulders, careful not to put too much weight with the injuries. He shifts a bit closer, fingers resting against his hips.

Finally, they pull back needing a breath of air, eyes barely open to stare at the other.

“Did you even hear what I said?” Marvin huffs, finding the momentarily dumbfounded look on Jackie’s face to be amusing and slightly endearing—though the latter will not be admitted aloud. The shake of his head, however, gets the single eye to roll moments before he presses a gentle kiss to Jackie’s lips, “I do. . . but it’s not possible for me to simply turn away from what I do. The things I have done, the connections I have made. . . there is no way I can back out of it.”

These words start to become daggers into the hero’s chest, piercing right through him, “You mean. . .”

“No, I don’t mean I want this to never happen again. . .” Marvin quickly corrects, raising a hand to cup Jackie’s cheek, “I am saying it will not be easy. You cannot simply stop being a hero, and I cannot simply give up on my mischievous ways. But, there are times where we can be somebody besides Marvin the Magnificent and Jackieboy Man. . .”

He brushes his thumb over the other’s cheek, giving a small smile that is quickly returned, “Times where we can be Marvin and Jackie. Even if it means meeting in a dank and dusty place like this, then so be it.” His other hand joins cupping the other cheek, a gentle hold, “I missed having somebody who cared for me. . . who truly cared for me and not for what I could do. But. . .”

Suddenly his touch slides away, hands falling to rest against his thighs again, “I must warn you, Jackie. One of my cohorts has awful things planned—for you and everyone in the city. I can’t directly do things to try to sabotage it, but I can warn you it is not going to be pretty.”

A cohort of Marvin’s is planning something big? “Who are they, what are they planning. . .?” Another question comes that Jackie needs to know, “What is your connection with him that makes you unable to sabotage it?”

Marvin looks away, an action that gets concern to rise in Jackie—his hands quickly returning to touch Marvin, to keep a physical connection between them, “What did they do to you?”

Silence.

“He’s the reason I’m still alive, the reason my magic is stronger than just simple light shows. . .” the words are choked out, Marvin’s head feeling light just speaking of it, “I made a deal with him in exchange for my powers to become stronger.”

“What was the deal?”

“I. . . I would help him take over the city in exchange to my stronger powers.”

There is a moment of silence, thoughts rushing through both of their minds. In a flash, Marvin takes hold of Jackie’s arm, “Please, I need to do something, a charm I learnt not to long ago. It will help us, I promise, but I need a bit of your blood.”

“A bit of my what?” The request throws him for a loop, eyebrows furrowing, “Why do you need some of my blood?”

“Please,” the grip tightens a bit, a hint of panic in Marvin’s voice, “I want to do this, if you are willing. . . To bind our souls together. This way. . .” He hesitates a moment, looking around the room with his good eye before settling his focus back on Jackie, “This way he can't kill you without risking the loss of me.”

Bind their souls together? “You mean. . . If one of us dies, the other dies as well?”

“Yes.” It is romantic in a way, to be with Jackie until the day they die, never one without the other. It could be seen as selfish not wanting to live without Jackie and the other way around, but it is also to save him, ”We don't have much time to decide and do the charm.”

“Why?”

Marvin grimaces a bit, “I can answer later, but the longer we take the more likely we won't succeed and one of us will end up dead. “

Jackie takes a moment to think it over before nodding, “Go through with it. Until death takes us away, I will be yours.”

“And I will be yours.” Marvin repeats the words, using his magic to summon a small knife, “This will sting a bit,” he waits a beat before slowly plunging the blade into Jackie’s palm to draw blood—starting to chat ancient words that are cryptic to the ears of one not trained in the arts. Once enough blood is drawn, Marvin moves to his own palm, repeating the words as he creates the cut to mirror the first one.

Jackie grimaces, internally cursing the fact he had just finished up patching the magician's wounds. He flinches slightly when his hand is taken by Marvin, lacing fingers together for the palms to touch—more specifically for the blood to intermix. Words are shifted to a new verse, keeping their palms pressed close and his eye closed.

A gentle warm aura glows off both their arms and hands, a red mixing with the teal to create a beautiful purple. Seconds after it arrived, the glow vanishes and Marvin’s eye snaps open.

“It is done.” When he pulls his hand away, it leaves Jackie in complete shock with no evidence of the cut on either hand save for a small glow where it was, “That will go away in a few days, but from now on our souls are bound tougher, and we are harder to kill since you are superhuman and I have my magical abilities.”

A smile graces the hero’s lips, one that grows more and more loving and tender the more he looks at the magician. He really did miss this, being able to sit with Marvin, no attempts to hurt each other, no fighting or bickering. . . Just Marvin and Jackie like it was years ago.

Gently, making sure not to move to much, Jackie shifts over to sitting on the couch next to Marvin, a silent request as he holds out an arm.

Understanding, Marvin moves slowly himself to wrap his arms around Jackie’s shoulders and pulling him close to his body, “I think I'm glad I got into that fight. . . It meant I got my old friend back. . .” He presses in for another kiss, Jackie chasing it a moment to draw it out before their lips part, “My love.”

“I don't think that is a good reason to lose your eye,” Jackie laughs softly, nuzzling against the other’s neck, “But I guess it could be worse.” He does not want to think about what could be worse; he wants to think about the present, what he has now being so close to his old friend and now lover. Just the two of them.

T̴̮͑h̶̪͒i̵͠ͅs̶̙̊'̵͇͌ľ̵ͅl̵̡̇ ̷̖b̵͍͑e̶͉͘ ̸̺̆f̵͕̑ų̴̔n̴̜̎. . . T̷̘͛w̷͇͝o̵̢͌ ̴̣̅f̸͎̚õ̵͔r̷͉͛ ̷͕̉o̵̮̔n̸̺͊ĕ̶̤. . .

Marvin stirs slightly, blinking his single eye to adjust to the further dimmed light to illuminate the room. When did he fall asleep? The spirits whispering around gave a hint that it was still in the late hours of the night nearing closer to the sunrise. The warmth from Jackie’s body pressed against his own and the sleep still clinging to his mind keep trying to lull him back into a light slumber, yet the coldness of the air around makes it back off. It should not be cold. . . unless. . .

“Tsk tsk. . .” the sound gets the magician to tense up, wanting to quickly shoot up to standing despite the fact he knows he is not strong enough to stand on his own—and the weight of Jackie holds him down denies such an action, “Here I thought you would be working on getting revenge on that doctor for taking your eye, not getting snuggly with his cohort. Unfortunate. . .”

“I know it wasn’t done on the doctor’s will alone,” Marvin growls dangerously, his glare only half as potent, “Why the fuck did you send him after me?!”

“Me? Why would I do such a thing?” A hand is placed on their chest, a shocked expression—so faux it makes Marvin feel sick to his stomach just looking at it, “I would never break you, especially since you need to hold up your end of the deal.” Steps are soft, as if they are ghosts of the action—there yet not at the same time, “That madman decided on his own to do such an atrocious act.” Yes. . . atrocious when that is a calling card of this monster.

“Disheartening to see this still. . .” A flicker of green glows from the figure’s face, a hint of an eye staring down the magician from the gathering darkness, “Don’t tell me you got emotional and made a bond. . .” He snickers at the grimace on Marvin’s face, “You did! Oh, Marvin, dear! Why would you go do a thing like that?!”

The figure gets closer, eyes beginning to glow brightly—one green and one blue orb, both focused solely on the magician, “You think that is going to help your case? Oh, I don’t think that doctor will stop even if it means killing his little hero friend. Or. . .” A hand reaches out, a finger tracing over the bandages covering the missing eye, “Are you hoping it will stop me from killing the hero?”

The response from Marvin is only a half-glare, hating how on the nose the other has been. He knows him too well.

“Don’t worry,” he snickers, pulling the touch away—watching as the other visibly releases tension in his muscles by a minuscule amount, “I never planned on killing the hero. No, that would be a waste. Though. . . you’ve made things easier for me.”

“Leave him out of this!” Marvin finds his voice, hands balling into fists, “I will do everything you desire, just leave him out of it. . . I will make sure he doesn’t get in the way. Just. . . I don’t want to lose him.”

“So desperate. . .” The hand returns, a finger playing at the edge of the bandages, slipping beneath to touch sensitive flesh, “Finally acted on those feelings, huh?” Another finger joins the other, prodding at the empty eye socket—getting Marvin to give a discomforted grunt, “Well, your funeral for doing such a thing when the hero ends up betraying you. . . heroes and villains don’t mix well, dear little magician. Alas, I won’t get in the way of your poor decisions. However, I’ll be k̷̢̋i̵̼̽n̵̞̓d̷̯͒, and help out with your little problem.” A finger taps against his own face, just below his right eye—the green eye.

Finally, he pulls away, giving a few meters of distance between him and the two, “Come find me when you are done with your moment of reprieve. . . I’ll give you a brand-new one and we’ll start up the beginning phase of the plan. . .” The figure gives a wide, sharp grin, his body seeming to glitch as if struggling to stay present, “D̸̛̹o̵̪͂ņ̵̄'̸̘̒t̷̫͋ ̶̼̓b̵̬ë̵̠ ̵͖̊l̸̫͘ä̵̡ţ̴̊e̷̤̒.” The words distort into static, grating on the ears as it shifts to a high-pitched giggle. . . before the figure disappears into the emptiness.

“Fuck. . .” Marvin breathes out the word, the weight of what feels like hours of holding his breath being released all at once. How could he be so ignorant. Of course, _he_ was watching the entire time. He knew every moment of what happened. . . did he plan this to happen? Nothing can be trusted to be a coincidence. . .

“Marvin?” Jackie’s voice rises, groggy from sleep as he was pulled out of it, “Is everything okay?” He shifts a bit, glancing up to notice the expression on Marvin’s face, “Marv?”

With a quick shake of his head, the magician takes on something more neutral in his expression before giving a small smile, “Everything’s fine,” fingers brush back a few strands of dark hair from the hero’s face, “Go back to sleep. We’ve got a few hours before sunrise, before I have to leave.” Leaning forward he places a kiss to Jackie’s forehead, “Let’s just enjoy the calmness before we go back to being villain and hero.”

“Alright,” the hero gives a wide yawn before snuggling up close to the magician, “I missed this. . .”

“Me too.”


End file.
